


A Good Queen

by PAW_07



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bondage, Bottom Megatron, Dominance, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mech Preg, Mpreg, Spark Sex, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAW_07/pseuds/PAW_07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron never contemplated on why  Starscream always took the abuse yet tried so hard to impress the Warlord. Finally, tired of the abuse and ignorance of Seekers’ ways,  Starscream is going to show the warlord that he’s not on the bottom. He is the Prince of Vos after all … but he still needs a good queen though. Crack-ish. SS/MT. G1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Decision

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't take this fic too seriously. Mostly I just want to mock how everyone always makes Megatron dominate over Starscream and decided to play with that fanfiction stereotype. ;3

_“Starscream you fool!”_

The words rang in Starscream’s helm and the seeker yelled in rage as he recalled Megatron’s deplorable treatment of him earlier. Finally giving into his internal rage, Starscream slammed his fist into the wall, his vents huffing. It had been joors ago but he was still enraged, still mad that his supposed _Master_ had backhanded him over mere energon. He had told the warlord, time and time again, that they did not need to steal from Earth to get energy. Shockwave could just…

Then he would promptly be silenced or slapped after that, not even listening to the educated Second in Command’s proposal of moving Cybertron into rotation around Earth’s sun or at least any other secondary sun. He knew mech’s like Shockwave and Soundwave silently agreed but said nothing. Megatron was too proud to give up on his crusade.

The Autobots and Decepticon’s might have differing views in most things but in the end they all wanted the same thing for Cybertron, especially with so many of their kind offline. This war had been going on too long. There were too many scars to just give up though without something _big_ happening.

Regardless, the slagger could just listen to his ideas. He was a Prince! The Prince of Vos, city of the fliers. A clan head.

“I don’t have to take this slag,” he growled to himself as he walked down the hall. “I’m a Prince!”

He heard a chuckle from behind him and turned suddenly to see Skywarp coming up behind him, followed swiftly by the other four seekers on base. The SIC frowned as the fliers all converse around him. He quickly looked around to see if there were any witnesses, wondering if he would have to show some distaste for the cone-heads or not. It had been a long, wrung out act and personally even he was getting tired of it. There was no way Ramjet would ever rise against him anyway. He didn’t have the right stuff… literary. He would never be anything other than one of his Lords.

It didn’t mean Ramjet didn’t like getting under his prince’s plating.

“Are you sure you are a Prince, me-lord,” taunted the other jet. “If so, why are you being whipped by Megatron, _again_? You are supposed to control the whim of every _real_ flier here. You could just over throw him, destroy him on a whim, yet, perhaps he’s right about you being a _coward_.”

The reaction was instantaneous as Ramjet was grabbed by the neck.

“Never call me a coward again or I will punish you, taking your title and your valve like you are a common consort,” growled Starscream, slamming the other mech into the wall and placing a hand on either side of his head, trapping him. Said mech could only cringe, pulling his armored plates tight in a submissive move.

It was only after a moment of cowering with a dipped head did Starscream run a hand over his lord’s face in a forgiving manner before turning away and stating, “Perhaps you are right. Though it pains me to admit it, I have labored so long and invested too much… that it is hard to just give up. He’s perfect. I will not be the failure my creator was.”

All the mech’s shifted nervously, knowing all too well what their Prince meant. Their city had declined with such an un-prosperous king. Their kind might have disappeared all together if it wasn’t for Vector Sigma, though the creator had misinterpreted their needs. Not one of those younger generations had the equipment to help their future prince prosper into a King of Vos.

It was the generation of sterility.

And one could not just make parts that were considered part of a Cybertronain’s spark, like a carrying camber.

“… But what other options do I have? Our people cannot wait vorns for … results.”

The five lords watched their prince’s wings fall, forlorn. None of them wanted their Prince to give in. They didn’t want their Clan to die out like… the Primes.

Shivering at the thought, it was surprisingly when the most unvoiced of their collection spoke, “I trust your senses, but perhaps you have been going about it the wrong way, my prince. You’ve been trying to impress Megatron with you skill, cunning, and intelligence, but perhaps that’s not what Megatron respects.”

The other fliers were all glaring at him, but Thundercracker continued, “Speed, flight, intelligence are all things respected by fliers… but though he is flight capable, Megatron respects force and strength and control… like a gladiator.”

“What are you saying?” questioned Thrust, entranced.

Looking up to meet the gaze of all his countrymen, Thundercracker stated coolly, “Perhaps it’s time that we built a nest. If playing our part in this war has taught us anything, perhaps its best to force your opinion. Megatron’s always been one-minded. He might not understand what you’ve been trying to get across. He is of a different culture.”

The other Lords all turned to look at each other, shrugging. Why not? They had fought a war trying to get their point across. If trapping and then forcibly _taking_ Megatron in essence didn’t work… well, this was a dead end then and it was best to cut their losses, because Megatron probably wouldn’t be too charitable afterwards anyway.

It was an all or nothing deal breaker, but they couldn’t let any more fliers die.

They’d just have to find another _candidate_.

…

Megatron eyed Starscream suspiciously as the seeker gave one more weary look at him and then left the command center. The seeker hadn’t said one word all day, not one screech, and yet he was polished so nicely like he wanted the warlord’s attention. Something was going on and Megatron didn’t like it.

Shifting on his perch of a throne, the grey mech waved for Soundwave to come over. The Communications Officer and Third in Command did just that, leaning down slightly so his Master could speak in his audio.  

“Do you know what Starscream is up to?” he grumbled. “He’s been twitchy.”

Soundwave looked back up at the door, Starscream long gone, before he added, “Observation: the seekers are up to something. Materials have been flowing into one of the abandoned hangers.”

Raising a metal brow, frowning, the gunformer added in a louder tone, “What do you mean? Is that traitorous snake trying to overthrow me again?”

Before Soundwave could even confirm or deny it, the warlord rose to his feet and stalked down the hall, taking this into his own hands obviously. The Communications Officer was half tempted to start after the other, tell him that though the Seeker was up to something … it wasn’t volatile in nature. It rarely was… it was usually about wit, intelligence and dominance with Starscream, but what did it matter. The last mech to stand up for the seekers’ culture got shot and so Soundwave refrained from ever mentioning such things, but he had a feeling that it wouldn’t matter anymore.

Starscream had come to an ultimatum, the twitchy visage of all the seekers on board revealed that much. True, the seeker kept his thoughts far too guarded for Soundwave to ever see what he exactly was up to, but his emotions were still ripe for the picking. He was growing tired. Whatever scheme he was up to … it would be the last.

Was someone going to deactivate today?

And yet, for some reason, the seeker’s thoughts still didn’t seem violent enough for that.

Remaining in the command center doorway, Soundwave decided that if Megatron wanted help he would have to ask for it because he had his own worries because Ramjet was giving him a curious look. He was staring at his abdomen to be specific and it was a little unsettling when the word “candidate” slid out of the other’s mind.

Soundwave found he did not want to pry and reentered the command center, his lips twitching behind their covering.

…

Megatron did not bother to silence his steps and he started down the hall. He would pound that sleek form into the ground and be done with it. He would take no more of this… today was Starscream’s last betrayal. Though, in the back of his, mind he had to wonder why this place. True, it wasn’t damp or wet or anything, but it was in the middle of the sunken ship’s belly. Well protect: no easy escape.

The seekers always wanted a place open for retreat.

Unless Starscream had no plans of retreat.

Megatron actually smiled a little in respect.

So it was a melee battle, was it? He did love those.

Though, the battle ground was slightly _odd_ when he finally got to the designated room Soundwave had mentioned. It seemed that the seekers were building a _cage_. There was no other way to describe it. It was a circular mass of metal beams and sheets, placed together in an oval, protective sphere.

He could think of nothing more than _death match_ especially with the way his Second in Command was standing there, hands behind his back, in the entrance of the sphere. His frown was deep set and his wings puffed out.

Getting closer, Megatron dully noted that there was no one else here. Not even the slagger’s wing mates.

This battle would be short and there would be no witnesses and Megatron personally wasn’t in the mood to wait for any. Slowly walking up the ramp that led to the entrance of the metal cage though _nest_ was probably a better description when he noticed the flooring was a soft mesh and … was that a foam pillow in the corner?

 _Figures_ , Starscream didn’t want to fall and scratch his paint job.

Getting in the other’s face, teeth bared, noticing that Starscream was standing tall making them almost the same height, the warlord growled, “What are you up to Starscream?”

Puffing out his chest, trying to seem brave though he was entirely nervous, the flier muttered, “I-I’m taking what I want. I’m not waiting for it anymore, Megatron.”

Megatron growled in his throat, “You’re challenging me for my throne _again_? Don’t you ever get tired of being beaten into the ground?!”

Red optics becoming slits, voice deadly, Starscream murmured, “Your throne was always just going to be a perk… I’ve always wanted you.”

Metallic brow raising, confusion covering his face, Megatron was going to demand what he meant by that, yet with fast movements Starscream reached out to the metallic wall of the cage with a strange glove like weapon, growling, “Prepare yourself.”

Then, glove sparking to life, showing it was electric, the flier touched the metal wall. Not even given time to realize what had going on… Megatron barked as electricity traveled down the wall, around the ceiling and bypassed the floor of foam that Starscream was standing on… and right into the walkway which Megatron was still standing on.

It had been a trap.

Not that Megatron really could do much more then cry out as his systems overload from the jolt of electricity, every system becoming overcharge and forcibly shut down, his hub going dark. But, as his optics offlined, smoke pouring from his mouth, he found it almost odd that he didn’t fall to the floor with a thud … almost as if he had been caught in an opened embrace.

How ludicrous that thought was … he was sure if he woke up at all, he would wake up dead.


	2. The Taking

Megatron moaned, his helm aching.

He tried to sit up instinctively, but found he could not.

Had he been punched across the battle field again by Prime, hadn’t he? Onlining his optics, fearing the bright glare from the Earth’s infernal star… he blinked, optics going offline and on. He seemed to be in a large circular room of some sort with metal beams and _fabric_ hung all about.

That was a lot of fabric. It was kind of pretty actually.

Wait, what?

No, no. What was he doing here?

Trying to sit up again in order to fully observe his surroundings, the warlord met resistance from his arms and a clinking noise as well. Slowly, half of him already identifying what was wrong by the weight on his wrists, Megatron looked up … and cursed. He was handcuffed to one of the metal beams! A reinforced metallic beam from the look of it!

It then all came back in a wave … _Starscream_.

Sitting up by sliding nearer to the wall, he growled under his breath, trying to think of what diabolical scheme the seeker was up to that required him to be _alive_. Pulling on the restraints, he decided a part of him didn’t really want to know because this … there was something _wrong_ with this set up.

He should be in a dungeon at least and not this curtained, foam and now pillow lined place.

Giving a mighty tug, Megatron grunted in pain. These restraints were tight yet had such long chains, strange.

Ignoring the oddity, the grey mech grunted as he pulled on the restraints once more, his wrists aching from the energon cuffs that had him tied to the caged wall of this contraption. Really, why was the exterior built for small weapons’ grade defense while the interior was layered with plush and pillows? His aft had it off pretty well actually and that bothered him. Why was he even caged? Why had Starscream gone to such lengths to keep him somewhat comfortable? It bothered him deeply and he pulled against the cuffs almost erratically, succeeding in only hurting himself, his wrists threatening to bleed. Slag, why was he acting like such a weakling? All of his weapons’ programs were still online… even if he didn’t have any weapons but his fists left. Then again, there was this old program that was running overtime.

What was that? He knew a part of him, an old part that existed in him since he was activated, knew what it was. What the pit was going on?

“I wouldn’t bother if I were you. I made those restraints specifically for you.”

Head slamming to the side, there was suddenly a squeal like a metal door being opened and then closed. Megatron immediately bared his teeth as he watched as one of those ridiculous human curtains were lifted to reveal none other than the traitor in question, gleaming like a little whore.

Not that Starscream spark shared with anyone but perhaps his seekers.

Megatron growled at his capturer, “Starscream, what is the meaning of this? If you are going to assassinate me, then do it and stop wasting my time, or release me and fight me like a real mech.”

Starscream, locking the door behind him, the sound of the lock almost making Megatron cringe, shook his head, “I have no intention of killing you Megatron. That would be a waste.”

Optics becoming slits, the warlord growled, “What do you mean by … waste?”

Coming closer, mindful that Megatron’s legs were still free, the seeker leaned down and got near the warlord’s face. Then with a grace the warlord didn’t see coming, the seeker was locking lips with his. Megatron’s optics became wide in surprise, his mouth opening. He regretted the action immediately as the seeker took advantage of the gasp and snaked his metallic tongue inside.

Grunting, trying to break the kiss, the warlord didn’t even realize Starscream’s hands were elsewhere as the other mech slowly started to drag Megatron away from the wall and out of a sitting position. It wasn’t until he was fully on his back, the seeker slowly spreading his grey legs, did Megatron break free by biting the other’s lip, yelling, “Release me Starscream or suffer the consequences!”

Wiping a little bit of energon from his lips, Starscream made no comment as he slowly raised one leg and spread himself over the grey mech’s form.

The warlord twitched, not liking the position as the red mech murmured, “Come now, Megatron. I was hoping we could have a good evening. I have such _pleasant plans_ and a little cooperation on your part will decide the remainder of our precarious relationship.”

“Get off me,” the warlord grumbled, jiggling the cuffs for a moment as he added, “Our only relationship is Master and disobedient soldier, something you will pay for when I get out of these cuffs.”

Shaking his head, frowning, so sure this was going to fail, the seeker added, “Not tonight. You are below me tonight… in a literal sense. I respect all my lovers, if they _moan just right_.”

The position was no longer just irritating, but coy as he red and blue mech took a moment to grind his hips against the gray mech.

“Now, let’s get you heated up. I want you dripping,” murmured Starscream as he got lower and lower, spreading Megatron’s legs the whole time.

Then, twitching, Megatron felt those long fingers start to place themselves over his cod piece. He immediately shivered, wondering if Starscream was going to torture him through such delicate not to mention worthless equipment. There was a valve down there from early transformer evolution. Most had it removed because it was just a left over piece with no use … and entirely too delicate for a war-mech.

There was an ancient rumor that some mech’s played with that equipment but that thought was just ludicrous. What could such a sensitive impute valve possibly be used for? If you wanted pleasure, it was through spark-sex.

“What are you going to do?” almost whispered Megatron, fearing a painful torture as the impute valve’s delicate feelers were destroyed by an angry seeker.

Finally getting the cod piece to hiss open, his own length shivering under its casing, Starscream whispered back, “Pray that those slaggen lords of mine were right about this.”

Then, feeling how tight his own equipment was becoming from the beauty and purity of Megatron’s valve, with its pouty grey lips, Starscream leaned his head down into that crevasse between the grey mech’s legs. He kissed the valve first, knowing just from looking at it that the valve probably had never even been touched by Megatron. Not that he was surprised. Only rich, lazy mechs and femmes had had time to explore their bodies.

Not miners that became gladiators. They barely had time to rest or heal.

Well, he would make this good for Megatron. So he ignored the curses from the warlord as he kissed the valve’s opening again. Then, feeling his own tightness for it had been far too long, he grabbed Megatron’s thighs and stuck his tongue out … He then gingerly licked the length of the valve’s opening.

Megatron arched, barking, “What the frag do you think you are doing! Did you just lick me!”

Ignoring the confused mech, as he had taken many perplexed mechs and femmes in the past, he licked it again. Then, being more daring, he pressed his wet tongue into the opening as his spike pressing against his cod piece. Finally, with little restraint, the flier started eating his treat. He was so famished. He was so hungry and tired of waiting to meet this valve, to explore this valve. So excited with finally having it, he was soon bobbing between those legs, thrusting his tongue in and out and sucking like a hungry babe. Megatron, completely disgusted probably, was trying to shift away, trying to jump away from the assault that was getting him wet as he cursed and barked.

Soon, Megatron was all but roaring in rage, thrusting towards Starscream’s face as he tried to at least hurt the other’s jaw. It wasn’t until he started feeling a tingling in his nether regions with each thrust that Megatron stopped, his spark picking up pace as the valve twitched.

Starscream merely moaned at the other’s voice as he gained a tinge of fear, “S-starscream… what are you doing to me?”

There was no demand in that voice, just a simple plea from an inexperienced mech. Moaning between those legs, the valve finally reacting though not really lubing since the breeding protocols wouldn’t come online until he was inside for a first timer, Starscream sat up, his jaw glistening with fluids, his hunger slowly increasing. In truth, he almost felt bad with how frightened Megatron looked, though the mech was certainly struggling to hide it.

Coming forward, crawling over the other’s form until he was perched above him, Starscream reached one hand forward and cupped the back of the warlord’s helm as he came forward for a kiss. It was short and sweet as he felt Megatron shiver beneath him. The grey mech was slowly becoming terrified. Megatron knew power and strength but not this.

His lords had been right.

Megatron was so wise and old and yet so much younger in some ways.

Finally answering the grey mech’s question, Starsream replied, “I’m going to make you feel good … and I’m going to feel _good_ as well. Though … it may sting a little at first.”

Excited by how Megatron’s frightened optics followed the hand that had been cupping his helm, Starsream reached for his own cod piece and as soon as it clicked open, a hard, breeding-ready spike extended into the soft light. Megatron slammed backwards immediately, a look of horror on his face as he barked, “What is that! Where is your valve!”

Starscreamed cooed at his lover, enticed by the inexperienced transformer’s fear, “Shh, shh. Calm down. I never had one. Spikes are rare. Now, this is going to hurt, but just bear with me.”

Megatron, who had been staring at the spike and how it twitched, looked up and swallowed at the hungry look in the seeker’s optics. Part of him considered head-butting the other, but when Starscream started to lower himself and that rod-thing downward towards his revealed valve… horror overcame him.

Starscream was going to stick that dripping thing into him!

Shifting his hips, hating how the other mech had spread his legs open so far, Megatron shook his head, “No! You are not putting that thing in me! I will kill you for this … this … whatever this is! Stop! Stop!”

Megatron might have taken time to be ashamed of how his voice had gained a squeaky aspect, but could only howl in rage and horror as the seeker successfully started pushing that thick long thing into him, moaning like a little slut.

At first, Megatron might have called it minor discomfort until Starscream stopped with a grunt… it was no longer sliding in easily, the head barely in.

Sighing, knowing this had to come, the seeker whispered, “This will hurt, lover. J-just bear with it until I’m completely in.”

His first thrust inward almost made him pull out as Megatron roared in pain, inadvertently causing himself to buck which only pressed the metallic spike in deeper. Starscream, not wanting to have to re-penetrate, quickly grabbed and stilled those hips and he pressed into the valve a little more, shushing the other as the gunformer whimpered in pain, “It’s alright. I’m already half way in. Just a little more.”

Megatron’s face bothered the seeker as his lips gained a pained and horrified expression. Part of him wanted to continuing hushing Megatron and telling him that it was normal, that this is how they were meant to breed; that those components were sensitive, yes, but this was also going to become pleasurable very soon. The valve walls were just stretching. Soon, there would be lube and it would feel good like it had started to when he had been licking down there.

But Megatron’s voice answered first.

“What the slag are you doing to me,” cried Megatron as he buried his head into his shoulder and struggled to intake air, pulling against the restraints and hissing in pain every time the rod slid down into his warm depth. Soon, Starscream remained still because he was worried Megatron would break into some sort of hysteria, the warlord’s systems were hiccupping in pain as his hips tried to squirm away. A few moments later it seemed the valve was adapting and Megatron had calmed somewhat and so, spike so hard he felt he may never come, Starscream just grabbed those wide hips –so perfect for birthing- and held the larger mech still as he continued his slow penetration.

Megatron arched with a howl.

It was times like these that the seeker was upset there were so few fertile clan males and that valve play had worn out of style, being messy especially with so few spikes to properly pleasure the rest of the population. Taking a virgin valve was concerning. One never knew if they were really hurting the other or if it was normal stretching.

Unable to stop his princely nature from showing, for if this worked this would be the first time with his _queen_ , Starscream shushed the other, “Just bear with me… soon it will feel good.”

“I-I’ll slaggen kill you,” Megatron groaned in retort, trying to shift his hips away from the pain, but the other just keep slowly pulling down and in. Megatron was so sure he was ripped down there that he was feeling blood pool in the valve… wait, it was too thick. W-why was Starscream smiling?

“Good, you’re lubing. Now I can pick up the pace,” said the seeker, pressing in the rest of his length, metallic hips slapping into each other. Megatron tried to remain silent until the rod pulled out, just to have it slap back in with a wet sound. Megatron cried out, the stretching happening all over again as the spike pulled out slowly and slid back in.

Wanting to keep even a little of his pride, the warlord buried his face into his arm promising revenge for … whatever this was.

He’d cut that rod thing off!

Pace picking up, his vents hitching, especially Starscream’s, the seeker reached forward and pulled Megatron’s faced out of the crook in his shoulder, murmuring, “Don’t hide your face from me. I want to see you, I want to see you when it starts feeling good.”

The warlord was about to cry that this would never feel good when Starscream lifted his hips some and placed a hand on his aft … gaining more room to pick up the pace. Megatron yipped as the speed picked up, sure that he was going to have his insides ripped up with that spiked torture device, but instead the wire cluster in his valve clenched and it felt strangely … _pleasurable_.

Megatron open his mouth and his optics dimmed as the pleasurable pulse happened again and again with each plunge of Starscream’s spike.

Starscream, loving that slacked jawed expression that bared Megatron’s teeth with each plunge, just purred in response as he grinded his spike to try and call out another pleasurable throb.

Megatron’s inexperienced valve didn’t disappoint and it wasn’t ten klinks in that a groan escaped the dubious lover, lube starting to fall from the hole that Starscream was penetrating. Megatron wasn’t sure what exactly the mech was doing. All he knew was that those components were left over, far too sensitive that they were labeled junk from an earlier time in transformers’ history… but he had never had time to remove it like most transformers. Once he finally had the funds, he didn’t have the time… he was a warlord. He didn’t have the fourteen to thirty cycles to lie in a medical berth and recover from its removal as was the norm.

Pit, Prime still had his. He kicked him there once and the mech had went down _hard_.

The slagger should really have his removed if it was _that_ sensitive but then again… why didn’t he know that this could be so _good_.

Frag. Oh frag, why were the wires constricting like that? Something was coming… something. Something big. Uh, waiting was like torture!

Megatron moaned, legs squirming, the only limbs free, and not knowing what else to do. He wanted to grab the fraggen peacock and pull him closer so he could have more of that hot rod inside. He immediately pushed away that thought though.

Why was he thinking that? Why was he liking this? The seeker was defiling his circuitry, pressing into him like a jackhammer as fluids splattered between the two of them. It was wrong, yet every system was positively buzzing in pleasure. Even spark fragging wasn’t this good, though his spark was hammering in his chassis as if that was what they were doing.

Another moan escaping him, the lube now running down his legs, Megatron started shivering. Something was coming, coming, but it wasn’t there. The seeker wasn’t doing something right in order to finish it. Growling, he wrapped his legs around the other and hissed, “Move faster or hard… or something… ugh.”

Starscream stalled, surprised. His lords _had_ been right. He had to be dominating in every aspect… even in bed. He had chosen well in a mate. He had wondered at some points, as the prince of the seekers, if he should cut his losses and pick a different queen, but inside Megatron right now, feeling his energy field slam upward, his valve clench. Megatron was perfect. His reaction were spot on and his chassis was large… his carrying chamber was too if Hook’s diagrams were anything to go on.

That slaggen  medic had wanted to remove at least the chamber once when Megatron had been damaged in the abdomen, but Starscream had been adamant, stating that Megatron didn’t want to be laid up for cycles healing. The medic had nodded in agreement. After that, the seekers had been adamant in watching Hook… no one was ruining his heir’s growth chamber.

All that work was for little disappointment though, now that he was inside Megatron. The wait and suffering was all worth it.

Chuckling and stalling, he watched disappointment fill Megatron’s optic as the warlord’s _, ex-warlord that is_ , gained a desperate expression. Megatron wanted to come, but that was entirely Starscream’s choice. Megatron was now submissive, a queen, and not a warlord so Starscream would decide when the other came.

Pulling on his restraints, the gunformer growled, “Don’t you slaggen stop. I’m so close...”

“I know,” replied the seeker, being far gentler now that his mate was acting properly by submitting, if a little bossy. He wouldn’t make the other wait too long. Megatron was being so good for his first time, even with all the screaming.

Running a hand down Megatron’s cheek, the transformer leaning into in and surprisingly kissed Megatron’s cheek before pressing a finger over his lips, “And I will let you come, but only if you behave. Now, open your chassis, bare your spark to me. My _to be_ mate and queen.”

Megatron seemed to pull out of his haze a little bit, a tinge of fear coming into his optics. The slagger could kill him far too easily if he bared his spark. Swallowing, his valve still clenching the hot rod demandingly though his mind now was wondering if that hot rod was a good thing. This was all a trap, wasn’t it?

“N..no… and what do you mean by queen?”

Smiling, trying to hide the nervousness of losing the prospect of a mate, Starscream pulled out almost all the way liking the way Megatron twisted his hips up, trying to rewrap the rod in his valve. The seeker knew taunting would keep him, but if Megatron didn’t open his chassis and come… this all would be for naught. He needed this to happen, now, while he had the ex-warlord’s submissive breeding programs activated.

The slagger probably didn’t even notice those ancient programs had come online during the painful penetration. Most first timers didn’t.

“Don’t worry, _love_ ,” oh how he liked that word instead of _Master_ and would soon be using it every night after, “I will not harm your spark. I just want this to be twice as pleasurable and yes, if all goes well… you will be my queen.”

Megatron growled, trying to thrust up so his valve could get the rod but the rod just rose up a little bit more… out of his reach. Shivering in need, he whimpered, “Queen is for the submissive ruler… I’m a warlord!”

Starscream frowned and then rose to his knees, chassis no longer touching the others. Then opening his chassis seductively, showing that his spark was nearly twice the size of Megatron’s. Being a rare fertile male, this was normal. He smiled at Megatron’s shock, letting its light rain on the other as he stated, “Then you don’t want my spike… or this.”

Blinking, uncertain how the hell his chassis could hold such a thing when Starscream would be pressing his spark down into him, Megatron shuddered as he felt the rod penetrate him just slightly. Oh pit, queen was just the title for someone on the bottom anyway, it didn’t mean anything. He wanted it; a deep part of him really wanted _it_.

Opening his chassis with a simple command, shivering in a slight fear that he had made the wrong choice, Megatron stated, “Frag me, you slagger.”

Leaning forward, penetrating his partner as he leaned back down, just over his to-be queen’s chassis, he touched Megatron’s face and tenderly kissed him. His engine purred as he stated, “No need to rush. I’ll be fragging you many times my queen, now this may hurt a little at first, but my spike has to expand to release the nanites and to prep your valve for impregnation.”

Suddenly getting an eerie feeling as he was about to asked what the frag the other meant by that, the seeker slammed his chassis down onto the other, sparks lashing out to greet one another. Megatron cried out along with the screeching seeker, the pleasure replaced with a sore pain as the spike thrust into him like a hot bullet. In and out the spike went, seeming to suddenly expand to twice its girth. Megatron’s second cry out was in pain, but then just as quickly as his valve tried to adjust, the flyer started to thrust in and out as deep as he could go, the spike’s tip trying to break the thin glass that covered the carrying chamber. Hearing a crack, valve struggling to handle the girth, Megatron howled, but the rod was just getting faster and larger until his whimpers of pain turned into screams of “ _please”_ and “ _Starscream”_.

Big was nice and a little painful and Megatron was finally starting to come, the spasms growing harder and faster, his spark all a flutter, programs he never knew he had coming to the surface telling lines to that useless chamber in his abdomen to come online.

Then, it came, his valve spasming uncontrollably grabbing for the spike pounding inside him. Starscream lived up to his name as his spike reacted just as forcefully, something hot spewing from the tip and into the chamber connect to the valve. Their sparks soon following after, the two blending into each other. It was just too much. It was just too fraggen good. Megatron’s systems were screaming and before he knew it, the spike was done oozing into him and their sparks were flowing back into their correct chassis. He was vaguely aware, as his systems shut down one at a time, that Starscream was slowly kissing his forehead and looking down into his spark chamber lovingly, telling him he had done well.

_There were two of them… he would make a great hive queen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It always bothered me that Megatron always has to be the dominate in Starscream\Megatron… so I decided to mess it up a little bit. Oh what fun. XD


	3. A New Dawn

The metallic cape flowed, his five lords all leaning against walls outside of the hall that lead to the nest, where Megatron would bear his first. The first were always the hardest. Starscream needed his lords to be at attention the whole time to keep the queen safe... their colony’s future depended on this queen, Megatron of all mechs, producing fruitfully. Megatron would have to remain in the nest. Even if the grey mech didn’t want to strange Starscream if he got out, losing his first few sparklings to combat would cause him to be stressed, his reproductive systems going offline to support his weapons once again.

True, Starscream still believed in the Decepticon cause –most of it- but now that he was King, he would make all the decisions needed.

Thundercracker, smelling sex on the prince that was now King, asked, “It went well, I take it. You seemed pleased.”

Starscream stopped, pulling a silver crown out of his subspace, (his father’s crown) smiled pleasantly and stated, “Yes, a little force and he was opening his chassis and accepted his place below me. Our people now have a queen and two sparklings on the way… both look strong attached to Megatron’s spark. Soon, they will be dropping into his reproductive chamber and be growing healthily. Our colony will soon be filled with many healthy young and Vos and Cybertron will prosper once more.”

Skywarp whooped at his Prince and the coneheads looked pleasantly please, murmuring in excitement that Megatron was indeed worth the wait, sparking the first night. Some past queens took vorns to reproduce.

Their grins stalled though, Thundercracker stating all their worries, “But what of the Prime?”

Placing his crown on his head, the metal glinting brilliantly, he stated, “I’ll be taking care of that. Tell Soundwave his new _King_ , having claimed Megatron as his submissive, orders him to call the Prime and tell him that we have something to discuss.”

…

A few joors later, Optimus tilted his head in confusion for a moment, seeing the crown on the seeker’s head. It was concerning, especially since now there seemed to be twice as many seekers around. Had they come through the space-bridge? What the slag was going on?

Then he caught a wiff of the mech before him, his optics onlining and then offlining in shock.

So it seemed that the Prince of Vos had finally claimed his mate… the mate he had been after for a millennia. Personally, Prime had been tempted once or twice to try and claim the grey gun mech himself, his breeding instincts trying to kick in as they rolled around on the battlefield. There were so few mechs that kept their valves and were fertile, and even fewer that had kept the carrying chamber. Most thought it was a wasted piece that consumed too much energy, but in truth that was how the Prime line continued… and how the seeker clans did as well. A useless component… hardly. It seemed that Megatron’s distrust of medics was the only reason he was able to drag this war out with the help of seekers.

Starscream had been trying to court Megatron the entirety of the war, showing off his peacock like disposition, battle cunning, and leadership persona.

Chuckling turning into a full blown laugh, borderline madness, Prime asked, “Was he worth dragging this war out? Was he all that you thought you needed in a mate?”

Starscream glared and puffed out his chest from across the still battlefield, everyone waiting to see why Starscream had called this meeting. Right now it was a stand still between the two armies, both sides waiting for a call to arms.

Trying not to rise to the bait, Starscream merely stated, “He is strong, flight capable, large, and has a fully functioning reproductive valve and chamber. Of course, he was. I couldn’t have found a far better mate.”

The Autobots around the Prime all were exchanging confused looks, confused as slag, but Ratchet seemed shocked as well as a few older mechs like Kup, his cy-gar dropping out of his mouth. Optimus still looked furious though, finding a mate completely unacceptable reason in his mind to continue a war. Yet, he understood to a point as the last Prime, his own spike having wanted to, on more than one occasion, slam the grey mech down on the battle field and frag him, promising his line an heir.

“No need to be so upset, Prime. At least you have a Decepticon leader now that is willing to make peace… I don’t need my sparklings coming out in a time of war,” said Starscream cockily, enjoying the surprised intake of air from all the Autobots, Prime looking vaguely upset, yet Starscream continued with a grin. “Yes, I fragged him until he overloaded into oblivion. He was quite satisfied and I was quite satisfied as well. He sparked the first night. If this is any indication, my clan will be repopulated in a millennia and Vos will reemerge as it should have always been.”

Optimus, truthfully, didn’t know how to react. He had always wanted peace, but who knew a good fragging would be how he would get it. Swallowing, he cautiously asked, “And how do I know this isn’t a trick Starscream?”

The Vos King frowned and then, coming forward he waved his hand at his men, stating to the Prime, “I know you need to continue your line, Prime, just as I must. As a sign of peace, you may claim any of my fertile Decepticons that still have a chamber and valve as probable mates. I know for a fact that most of my cousins, the Lord Seekers, do and so does Shockwave and Soundwave, I believe.”

Soundwave, who was towards the front of the seeker hoard, twitched involuntary, Optimus’ blue optics staring at him hungrily for a moment.

Starscream smiled at this, and taking a few steps forward, whispered up the tall Prime, “I’ll leave Soundwave for tonight if you want. I was considering taking him as a second bride to keep my queen company in his labors… but if you like that kind of frame.”

Swallowing, the Prime almost stated yes, screamed it even, but whispered back, “I will consider it. So few of my men have… chambers, most being so young and thinking those parts useless or just plain infertile, but first I want to finalize these peace agreements and ask you something.”

“Oh, and what would that be?”

“What are you going to name your first two sparklings? The princes that will bear our peace?”

The seeker smiled, looking at his old space craft companion in the Autobot hoard that he once considered mating before he met Megatron. He made sure to wink at the shuttle before he stated, “So far, I like the designations Jetfire and Jetstorm. What do you want to name your first born since it wouldn’t be courteous not to ask?”

Grinning behind his mask, the Prime muttered, “If my first born is a prince, Rodimus Prime seems fitting for some reason.”

The two fertile males laughed, everyone but an old war veteran, a medic, and a cluster of seekers having no idea what was going on. And yet, soon it would be written down that a good fragging not only stopped a war, but save the species as a whole. Soon there would be young again… soon there would be life though Starscreams queen was currently trying to escape her nest as he stood there, cape waving in the wind.

He liked them with a little spunk after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done! Though I might add a chapter or two. Maybe a Soundwave/Prime or Shockwave/ Prime as well as a birthing scene … because I’m just evil like that. But for now, it is complete!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a three part story … this first part is clean and part two (shifty eyes) … is not. And that’s all that needs to be said about that.


End file.
